


Fixing The Broken Pieces

by twisting_vine_x



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-16
Updated: 2012-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-18 20:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twisting_vine_x/pseuds/twisting_vine_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six days later, with Dean and Cas still barely talking and Sam watching them like he’s afraid they’re gonna start punching each other out, Dean is still doing his best to escape whenever he can.</p><p>(A/N: Takes place right after <i>A Little Slice of Kevin.</i>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fixing The Broken Pieces

That night, Dean goes for a walk. 

Sam is on his laptop, and Cas is watching TV, all shiny and new and not quite meeting Dean’s eyes, and Dean just can’t sit in their crappy motel room any longer. Cas and Sam both look up as he leaves, but neither says a word, and by the time Dean’s on the far side of the motel parking lot with his head resting on his arms, leaned up against some wobbly vending machine, he’s starting to shake.

_I planned to stay all along. I just didn’t know how to tell you._

Dean makes a noise that stops almost before it’s out, and squeezes his eyes a bit tighter together. He knows damn well that his own relationship with guilt is twisted, knows far too well how that works – but Cas should have _never_ – Dean did _everything_ to get them out, and Cas still left him. Left him just as surely as Dean thought he’d left Cas. Because while Cas may have been the one who stayed in Purgatory, Cas sure as hell isn't the one who got left behind, and how the fuck is Dean ever supposed to make peace with the fact that Cas fucking _chose to split them up forever?_

“Dean.”

He tries out a curse, but even that doesn’t work right, and – christ. He’s losing it. He can actually physically feel himself losing it. And if Cas doesn’t take his hand off his shoulder, Dean is going to punch him so hard he breaks all of his knuckles, and – fuck this. Fuck everything.

“Is there – what can I do?”

“You can fuck off.”

It’s weak to his own ears, and there’s a moment of silence followed by a light flutter of feathers, and Dean is alone again. With nobody around to see him, he turns and sinks into a crouch against the vending machine, arms around his knees, and just tries to breathe. Everyone leaves him, and the fact that this can still surprise him is just further proof of how fucking pathetic he really is.

\- - -

Six days later, with Dean and Cas still barely talking and Sam watching them like he’s afraid they’re gonna start punching each other out, Dean is still doing his best to escape whenever he can. They might all be stuck in transit together, but as soon as they’re parked for the night, he finds every excuse to not be in the motel room. It’s physically painful to be stuck between wanting to wrap himself up around Cas so tight he can’t breathe, and wanting to scream at him for leaving, for giving up on him, for giving up on both of them, and being trapped in the same room as Cas is a special kind of absolute fucking misery that Dean simply cannot deal with right now.

\- - -

Nine days after they get Cas back they get jumped by a rogue group of leviathans. They win, but Cas gets gutted, ends up bleeding all over Dean’s clothes as his still wavering mojo tries to patch him up, and Dean doesn’t realize he’s holding Cas’ hand and shaking until Sam puts a hand on his shoulder, and Dean finally figures out that Cas has stopped bleeding and is just watching him. There’s way too much fucking emotion painted across his face, leaves Dean feeling just as gutted as Cas had been, and he’s on his feet in the next breath, getting the fuck away from both of them. 

\- - -

That night, Sam makes himself scarce, and Dean ends up leaning up against the edge of a desk in yet another shitty motel, trying to not punch Cas out as Cas makes another attempt at explaining his pathetic reasoning for staying behind. It’s late, and everything hurts, and the room is dark save for one bedside lamp, and Dean wants Cas so badly he _aches_ with it, but just looking at him is turning his stomach over.

“I didn’t deserve –”

“Like hell you didn’t.”

_“Dean –”_

“After everything we’ve been –”

“I _told_ you, I did not deserve to be –”

“And what about me, Cas? Did you think for _one goddamn second_ what it might do to me?”

It’s either the anger or the five bottles of beer, but everything around him is slightly hazy at the edges. Not hazy enough, though, that he misses the way Cas goes very still, before his gaze lasers in on Dean in the way that makes it seem like he’s looking straight through to his soul.

“I have based every decision around you. This decision was for me.”

It’s like being scraped raw from the inside out. Dean curls his fist around the beer bottle and walks out.

\- - -

It can’t be half an hour later that Cas finds him sitting on the hood of the Impala, beer bottle lying on the pavement. He hovers for a moment, and then leans against the car beside Dean, and Dean has to step away, turns to look at Cas again only when there’s a foot of space between them, doing his best to ignore the hurt on Cas’ face. He really is losing it – he knows he is – and he doesn’t know how to stop. Sam left him to rot, and Cas chose to trap himself forever on a different plane of existence, and Dean would quite possibly take Hell over being left behind by the two people he needs the most.

“I have not been entirely truthful with you.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you –”

“I did not believe that my remaining behind would affect you to the extent that it obviously has.”

It cuts through the haze like a razor, makes everything inside him tighten up, ramps the nausea up to painful levels, and Dean has no fucking idea what he’s supposed to be feeling right now, because _what the actual fuck._

“How could you even -”

“When we entered Purgatory –”

“Maybe you missed the part where I’d have killed _all three of us_ to get you out of –”

Cas moves too fast for Dean to process, and the next thing Dean knows he’s been spun around and pushed against the hood of the Impala, pressed up close against Cas’ body, the movement still somehow barely enough to jostle him, like Cas thinks he's made of fucking glass - but the fiercely hurt expression on Cas’ face – the way he’s actually shaking as he curls his hands into the front of his jacket – hurts far worse than being punched ever could.

“And do tell, Dean. How could I have possibly known that you still cared about me?”

_“Cas –”_

“After Sam – after the Apocalypse – you left me. You went to Lisa. And when I needed you – that entire time, all those things I did, I tried _so hard_ to talk to you, but you _never_ once listened to me, not once, and Dean, I – I thought you were done. With me. I thought that we were – that you no longer cared. I thought that we were – that whatever we’d had was –”

“You’re the one who left me.”

Dean doesn’t even know how he gets the words out, his voice cracking around every single one, _peace or freedom,_ the memory of Cas fucking off to Heaven right when Dean needed him more than ever - the memory of everything crashing down around him as Sam jumped and Cas left him and Dean's entire goddamn world shattered. Everything inside him feels broken, suddenly, feels like the world’s been turned upside down all over again, and he has to close his eyes because looking at the pain in Cas’ expression is no longer an option. 

“I thought – you went to Lisa. I thought you wanted…”

The words are faltering, and Dean – he should say something, should pull Cas in and never let him go, but it’s all too much – were the last three years for _nothing?_ – and when Cas moves away, Dean keeps his eyes closed and doesn’t stop him. There’s barely a pause before Cas is gone, nothing but the soft beat of his wings, and when Dean’s legs go out from under him, he sinks down against the Impala’s grill and tries to just breathe through the too fucking much of it all.

\- - -

Two hours later, when he finds the guts to go back to the motel room, Sam is still gone, and Cas is nowhere to be seen. There’s a text from Sam telling him he’s found an all-night coffee place with free wifi, and a note on the table that just reads _Be back_ with Cas’ name underneath it. Dean thinks he should be feeling something right about now, but all he can feel is exhausted, and he barely takes the time to check the salt lines before he curls up in the blankets and lets himself go.

\- - -

The next morning, Cas is still gone, and from the empty salad container on the desk, it’s obvious that Sam’s come back and gone again already, presumably to leave Dean and Cas to work out of some of their shit. In the light of day, everything from the night before feels painfully real, and by the time Dean gets out of the shower he still hasn’t figured out what he’s supposed to do next. He might not be the most self-aware guy, but he knows himself well enough to pick out the hope amongst all the lingering anger, and if he can find it in himself to put him in Cas’ angelic shoes for the last couple of years, then maybe – maybe – he can see where Cas is coming from on him thinking Dean doesn’t care, even if the thought still makes Dean want to punch him in the face. 

The grudging thought has barely crossed his mind before there’s the sound of wings. Dean goes still for a second, and then makes himself turn around, trying to ignore the way his heart climbs out through his ribs at the kicked puppy expression on Cas’ face.

“Cas.”

“Dean.”

And that, apparently, is where they get stuck. It’s enough to make Dean grind his teeth, makes him want to reach out and just fucking grab Cas already – makes him want to take some kind of fucking step towards fixing how badly they’ve been broken – but all he can do is watch as Cas drops his eyes to the filthy carpet, looking so lost it actually hurts to look at him.

"It was never my intention to hurt you. I know that it may be difficult to believe that with all that has happened."

And that, right there, feels like being gutted all over again. Feels like Cas has reached right into his chest and twisted, and Dean sucks in a breath, fights the way his hands are aching with how badly he wants to touch, fights the sudden tightness in the back of his throat.

"Cas -" 

“I believed that your determination to save me was based on your tendency to assign self-blame. To make yourself responsible for everyone. I was unaware that - I did not know - I thought that you -"

And wherever that sentence is going, _I thought that you didn't care_ , it gives him the courage to curl his fingers into the front of that damn trench coat, lets him tug just enough that, if Cas wants to go with the movement, he can – and when Cas grates out his name and yanks Dean against him, wraps his arms around him and presses his face into Dean’s neck and tightens his grip to the point of pain, Dean doesn’t bother to care about the stupid itch in his throat and the sharp burn in his eyes. 

All he does is pull Cas in as close as he can get, his body sparking hot and his chest aching in a way that doesn't hurt for once – and when Cas presses his lips against the side of his cheek, it feels like something is _finally_ slotting into place after being shattered for far too long, and all Dean can do is hold on as tight as he can, cradled close against his angel in their shitty little motel room, with Cas' breaths coming soft against Dean's cheek and their hearts slamming together in between them.


End file.
